Forbidden Fruits Taste Sweetest
by EriChristine
Summary: AU Violet and Tate become step-siblings. Cliche title for a cliche scenario. I got bored.
1. Chapter 1

"I can't think of a time where I wanted to cut that much before. Maybe, I had so much built up in my mind that I just snapped; that I felt like it was in my blood and I needed to let it out, I guess. Most of the times, I only think about it and never do it. But, this time I finally did."

Violet watched the woman in front of her scribble on an obnoxious yellow pad. The lady's light blue eyes met her whiskey ones and she looked quickly to her feet.

"How long has it been since you felt that way? I see that the injuries from your last 'fit' have healed nicely."

Both of their gazes flicked to the now silver lines between the crook of Violet's elbow and her wrist.

"A few weeks I guess. Clearly, I haven't sliced my arm again", she quipped, nodding in the direction of the scars.

Her mind flashed, remembering the night she had had enough of her new step-mother's shit and her love-drunk father siding with her opinions and rules.

The step-brother she hadn't met yet abandoned a shaving kit that sat in the medicine cabinet with fresh blades, fortunately untouched by rust and still sharp.

At first, she put a blade to her throat, tried with all her might to actually pull it across. But, she couldn't find the power to kill herself. She didn't want to die, that would just satisfy them, she wanted to let her pain inside come out.

So, she started on the middle of her arm, one cautions, experimental swipe to test the waters and her pain tolerance. It was sharp, slightly stinging, but when the blood slowly surfaced, she oddly felt a little better.

Line after line, slice after slice, she felt all her problems gather at the brink of her wounds and spill out with the blood.

She was so wrapped up in watching the red in stark contrast to the white of the sink that she hadn't heard the door open.

The scream that erupted from her stepmother's big mouth snapped her back to reality and seconds later she was in the car on her way to the hospital with a towel around her arm and tears streaming down her face.

It's been almost a month since then and it was her last 3 times a week therapy session. Now, she'd start going only once. If she improved more, she'd go every other week, then once a month.  
"That's very true," the woman commented, giving a light, practiced laugh at the end.

Violet wanted to choke her. This pretentious woman had no idea what she was going through.  
She opened her mouth to say something sarcastic when a high pitched "ding" rung out in the stuffy room.

"Well, our time is up for today. Have a nice weekend! I'll see you on Wednesday."  
Violet practically jumped from the brown faux leather chair and jolted out the door. She waved a quick goodbye to the receptionist, Chad, and he returned it without looking up from his copy of the month's issue of "Cosmo".

Outside the L.A. sun was blaring and her ratty mustard cardigan wasn't helping. She trekked home with her iPod blasting in her ears. When she arrived, she slowed her pace. She hated everything that was going on behind the doors of that old house. Violet headed up the short walk to her house; the building looked particularly menacing, but she shook the thought away and hurried inside.

It was quite, which worried her. Silence meant that the place was empty or that her father and step-asshole were in the kitchen waiting to berate her with questions about her session.  
She walked through the foyer and glanced to her left. The living room was clear. She walked further and looked to the right, dining room was empty too. She passed the stairs and took a slight turn and entered the kitchen. No sign of her guardians anywhere.

She took a breath of relief; she'd have peace for a little while. Violet backtracked to the main stairs and took them two at a time. She walked down the hall to the last door at the back of the house, her sanctuary.

She closed and locked the door. Her space was simple, a bed, dresser, iPod dock, dark blue-green walls, lots of books, random trinkets, a few posters from old movies, and a viola. Violet threw off her bag and picked up the viola. She took after her mother, whose love had been the cello. Violet preferred the higher, sweeter, sometimes even sadder sounds of the viola.

She plucked the strings gently, checking to see if it was in tuned, then picked up the bow. She went blank and began to play.

Violet was not in her body, the sound of the music, the flow of her playing pulled out her soul. She and her mother shared this experience when they played, both soaring with the notes of whatever melody they produced from the gliding of the bow across strings.

The internal sheet music reached its end and Violet took a deep breath as she returned to the real world. She frowned, putting the viola back on its stand. She missed her mother. It hasn't even been a year yet.

Violet silently cursed her father, Ben, for marrying another woman so quickly, just three short months after her burial.

Her stepmother, Constance, waltzed into their lives and scooped up her father in his most vulnerable state.

With a sigh, she returned to her mind and set down the instrument. The front door opened and she faintly heard Constance speaking excitedly and Ben responding happily.

_Great, they're home._

"Violet, Come down at once! We have something wonderful to tell you!" Constance's southern accent rang through the halls from the bottom of the stairs.

She left her room and met her guardians in the living-room. Constance was in one of her usual sundresses; her dyed blonde hair pinned up neatly to replicate a 1950s style and Ben's arm was wrapped around her waist. It made Violet throw up a little in her mouth.

"Vi, your mother and I-"

"Step-mother," she corrected. The tone made Constance fidget a bit.

"Constance and I have great news. Her son is coming home from boarding school. He'll be going to UCLA in the fall and living here with us."

"Oh. How wonderful."

Constance's face brightened. "It is! Oh, you'll love him, Violet. He'll be the perfect older brother for you."

"He won't be much of an older brother; he's only a year older."

"Violet." Ben's warning made her eyes roll.

"When are we expecting my dear older brother?" Her voice was laced with subconscious sarcasm, but Constance paid no mind to it.

"He'll be home any minutes! I'm going to go start dinner. Be a dear and set an extra plate for my boy?"

Ben smiled and nodded, following her into the dining room.

Violet began to mutter. "Great, there's gonna be a stupid eighteen year boy living here with us. What a fucking joy."

On cue, there was a knock. With the most convincing smile she could muster, Violet opened the heavy front door to reveal a shaggy, bright blonde haired boy with the darkest eyes she'd ever seen. He greeted her with a dimpled smile that made her breath catch.

"Hi. I'm Tate. You must be Ben's daughter."

Violet released the door and moved a bit so he could come in with his suitcase. She took in his striped sweater, holey jeans, and scuffed up converse. Tate set his bag down and brushed his hair from his eyes to get a better look at the girl before him.

Deep purple tights, floral patterned dress, mustard cardigan, and old boots. Her straight, dirty blonde hair touched the tops of her two perky breasts that he just couldn't help himself from noticing. Her eyes reminded him of honey and absentmindedly wondered if her pale skin tasted like it.

Pushing his thoughts of her away, he shut the door and flashed another smile.

"Yeah, I'm Violet. My dad is in the kitchen with your mom getting dinner ready. I'm sure my dad would like to meet you."

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Cool. That way, right?" Tate pointed.

"Yup. Want me to take your bag to the room they set up for you?"

Her kindness toward him was shocking to herself, but the look of him intrigued her. He was attractive and in some way, the thrill of having this unattainable boy living in the same house made her insides twist deliciously.

"Seriously? That'd be awesome. Thanks."

His smile widened, dimples deepened, and noticed her slight blush. He watched as she grabbed his bag and took off up the stairs. He was hypnotized by the slight swing of her hips beneath her layers of clothing.

"I've been away from girls for far too long," he sighed.

He shook his head and made his way toward the sound of voices. Being at a private boy's boarding school made him miss the sight of girls. Violet was a forbidden fruit and Tate wanted to take a huge bite.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner was painfully awkward for Violet. The parents spoke in a lively manner with Tate, completely ignoring her silence.

"Tate, dear, have you seen the room we made up for you?" Constance was beaming at him.

He looked at Violet who pretended to be fascinated by her plate.

"Not yet, but Violet took my bag up before dinner so I'm hoping she could lead the way after?"

She glanced up. "Sure."

"Well, if everyone is done eating I guess we can clean up. Why don't you kids run along? We can take care of this." Ben smiled at the children.

"Cool. Thanks, Ben." Tate stood and went around to Violet's seat.

She rose and motioned for him to follow her upstairs. They walked to the end of the hall and stopped at the door beside Violet's.

"So… This is it."

Violet walked into the room and Tate was right on her tail. His room was almost as simple as hers; navy walls that matched the blanket on his bed, a dark wood dresser, mirrored closet, and a bookshelf with a matching desk and chair.

"Wow. My mom went all out, huh? This place is so empty! Good thing I've got that paid internship this summer. I can buy more shit."

He turned to see Violet's reaction. There was nothing but a slight smile.

"Sounds cool. Does it have to do with what you're going to college for?"

He shrugged. "I dabble in poetry. If I work with the publisher and get promoted to a part time job there while I'm in school getting my English degree, I can start getting shit out through them."

"That's awesome. Can I read your stuff?"

He walked toward her suddenly and she backed up into the wall. He placed an arm on either side of her. She raised a brow.

"Sure," he whispered.

The game had begun.

"Really, Tate? You've known me for half a day and you're already coming on to your _'little sister'_?" Violet's voice was thick with sarcasm to hide her unnaturally sudden lust for him.

"Oh, bullshit, Violet. You feel it too. You want me too."

"So? You're unfortunately good looking and I'm a seventeen year old girl."

"And I'm an eighteen year old boy who just got back from four years at an all-boys boarding school."

"Is that the only reason you're up against me?"

"Definitely not. You're also gorgeous."

"Yeah, right. See ya."

She ducked out from under him and winked before retreating to her room next door.

He banged a fist on the wall. "What the fuck is the matter with me?"

Tate felt weak. This girl, she was nothing like the empty things he'd pound his frustrations into on the weekends.

She had an attitude; didn't just fall under his charm like all the others. They were blinded by his cursed good looks.

In truth, he was really only looking for a temporary relief in them; something to keep his mind off of everything. His blinding rage and the massive amounts of drugs he was taking prevented him from even remembering what these girls looked like.

Tate could care less. Violet was memorable and he wanted to know her; all of her.

Violet heard the slam against the wall in his room, they were so thin. She settled on her bed with music coming through her speakers.

The door was locked, out of habit, and she opened the book on her bed.

She couldn't concentrate. The boy in the next room had consumed her thoughts.

She sighed and closed her blinds on the setting sun. Before settling under the blankets in the dark, she search blindly for the pesky charger wire that fell behind her night table.

The phone was placed on top; plugged in and faced down. She closed her eyes after a quick look at the digital clock beside the phone and forced herself to fall into oblivion.

Tate was restless. It was only 8:00 and no movement could be heard through the wall.

_Asleep already?_

He wondered how she could get herself to sleep so early. He sat up and paced. He could hear the light chatter of the married couple downstairs every time he got close to his bedroom door.

He let out a low growl then decided it was time to dip into his stash. Tate opened his suitcase and tore out all the clothes until the tiny tin was in sight. It popped open and inside was a few baggies of things.

Out of habit, he reached for the coke. Tate sat at the desk and poured some out. Then, he took out his wallet and used his debit card to prepare it. Three perfect lines ready to be consumed.

He used the $10 in his wallet and took whatever was remaining on the wooden surface on his finger and rubbed his gums.

A shiver went through his body. He got up, put everything back in the tin, and tossed it in the top desk drawer. Tate resumed his pacing, contemplating the girl in the room next to his.

He looked at the bedside dresser and saw that hours had passed by. It was well after midnight and the house was quiet. His mind was everywhere but actually inside him and suddenly he found himself in Violet's room.

The door had been locked; he used his debit card to get in and closed it softly behind him. His eyes adjusted quickly and ironically enough, moonlight was shining faintly through the blinds behind her bed.

He watched her sleep; the blanket was practically off of her. She hadn't bothered to put pajamas on; she had on only the leggings she'd worn all day and a long sleeved shirt he assumed was under her dress and cardigan.

Her feet were dainty and bare with chipped polished toes. He smiled; the color looked to be deep purple.

Tate marveled at her pale skin and was thankful she didn't enjoy tanning like the rest of the California girls he knew.

Violet stirred and Tate went rigid; a sigh escaped from her slightly parted lips and she rolled over. That's when she sensed something was off.

In the dark, she squinted slightly to see a shadowed figure at the foot of her bed. She jumped up with her eyes wide open ready to scream; Tate jumped onto the bed, grabbed her, and clamped his hand over her mouth.

"It's me! Don't yell," he whispered harshly.

She relax and he let go. Then, she smacked him.

"You idiot! What are you _doing_ in here? How did you _GET_ in here?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep and the door was unlocked. I wanted to see if you were still awake."

Violet was confused. She could have sworn she locked the door.

"You should have knocked," she snapped, pulling her blanket back over her in attempt to cover up.

He lied some more. "I did. I just thought you were ignoring me."

"No, why would I do that?"

"Because I came onto you so fast."

Tate's high was fading and Violet kept looking at him with a harsh glare.

"It's okay. You're not used to being around girls." She laughed a little.

"Actually that's not true."

Violet felt herself shrink a little bit. He was implying exactly what she thought; he's had many girls' interests before.

"Oh. Cool."

He leaned in to kiss her; she punched him in the chest.

"What the hell, Violet," he gasped.

"Don't even think about it. You know nothing about me, _bro_. How dare you just come in here and think I'll give it up to you! You think just cause you're pretty I'll let you touch and kiss me? News flash, idiot: I don't hook up with strangers. Either get to know me so we can figure out what this weird attraction is or get the fuck out and treat me like your sister."

"Damn. Fine then, we'll do it your way."

Tate got up and stormed back to his room, not bothering to pull her door shut.

"What a drama queen," she muttered, getting up and closing the door. She jiggled the handle; it was still locked.


	3. Chapter 3

**I just wanted to thank everyone for the lovely reviews! **

Violet awoke to the smell of bacon; something she hadn't done in a very long time. She inhaled deeply and then got out of bed to walk to the bathroom. Her messy hair and tired eyes were the first things she noticed in the medicine cabinet mirror. She looked down at the white sink, scrubbed clean of all the blood she had dripped there like it never happened.

After a quick brush of her teeth and hair, she went back to her room to put on actual pajamas. She chose a black tank top and a pair of shorts to match. Her gaze fell on the clock; 11:30 and her room was sweltering from the sun outside already.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she could hear music coming faintly from the lower level; she assumed it was in the kitchen. She made her way down and followed the music and bacon smell. And there he was; blonde curls a wreck, shirtless, and slaving over the stove.

Tate hadn't heard her come down and into the kitchen. He was lost in his own world; Kurt Cobain wailing through his cell phone speakers and the smells of the breakfast he was making had him so excited to eat.

At the sound of an island stool scraping the floor, he glanced over his shoulder. Violet slid onto it and put both elbows on the counter.

"Morning," she sighed

He reached over and shut off his music. "Hey. Hungry?"

"Yes, I'm starving."

"Good. I made a ton of food. Are cheesy scrambled eggs okay?"

"Sure. Whatever you made is fine."

He plated eggs, bacon, and toast for the both of them, grabbed two forks from the drain board, and then joined her at the island. He decided to stand up across from her; the stools were only on one side.

"So," she began, "How did you get in my room last night?"

"I told you. The door was unlocked." He shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth followed by a bite of bacon.

"Cut the bullshit, Tate. It was locked. When you came into my room last night, you didn't shut the door all the way. When you left, you didn't bother pulling it closed behind you so I had to get up and do it. The handle was still locked."

Tate said nothing. He looked right at her, unwavering and continued to eat his breakfast.

Violet stared right back and nibbled her toast.

"Fine; I used my debit card."

"Why did you come in my room?"

"Cause I couldn't sleep."

She finally looked away and really dug into her breakfast. The eggs were just the right amount of cheesy and well-seasoned; the bacon was perfectly crisp and the toast had just enough butter on it. She cursed him in her mind.

"This is good," she commented quietly.

"I'm glad you like it."

They finished in silence. Tate kept sneaking glances at her that she pretended not to notice. Violet helped him clean up the dishes and pans. Neither of them spoke.

Finally, Tate couldn't take it anymore. "Violet-"

"Where are our parents?"

"Uhh your dad took my mom with him to some psychiatrist conference. They said you knew about it."

Crap! Violet had completely forgotten about the conference. She wracked her brain for the conversation between her and her father.

_"__Vi, I'm going to a conference next week in San Francisco for five days, Monday to Friday night. I'm taking your step-mother with me. You'll be okay by yourself?"_

_She was reading a book, half listening. "Yea, dad, I can manage."_

_"__I'll be sure we go food shopping a few days before and I'll leave you fifty dollars if you want take out a few nights."_

_"__Sounds good, dad, thanks."_

"Damnit," she muttered.

"Sorry, kid, looks like you're stuck with me for five days."

"Did he leave money?"

"Yeah, he gave me fifty bucks for us to order food on a night we don't feel like cooking."

"Okay. So, _bro_, whatcha wanna do?"

He stalked toward her and trapped her between his body and the island.

She scowled. "Tate."

Her voice was a clear warning, but he didn't move.

"Can I please kiss you, Violet?"

The politeness of the request stunned her for a moment. She was unsure of how to respond. Did she want him to kiss her? Hell fucking yes. Was she ready to fall into whatever would stem from this one kiss? It was possible.

"What will you get from a kiss, Tate?"

Her irises darkened a bit and he noticed the lurking lust within them.

"Your trust and an answer to the question that's been burning in my mind since I laid eyes on you."

She slid her hands up his bare chest and rested her hands on his shoulders. He rumbled under her touch; despite her efforts, her body began to ache for him.

"What question is that?" she whispered.

"Will I ever have you?"

"Do you want me, Tate?"

"Yes. And, I want to keep you. Forever."

"Why?"

"You make me feel."

Violet pulled him toward her until he took over and smashed his mouth on hers. The kiss was needy, but not sloppy; gentle, but passionate enough to make her legs wobble. His hands found her waist and he carefully lifted her to sit on the island without breaking their lip lock.

He stood between her legs, letting her feel what she'd done to him.

"Oh, god." She was the first to pull away with a sigh.

Tate went to her neck, right below her ear, and placed soft kisses there.

"Violet, you're killing me."

"I can tell."

He shot her a glare and she smiled. He kissed her again, harder this time, and she had to lean back from the force. When he pulled away, he took a step back.

"I guess we need to get to know each other before we get into anything else, right?"

She nodded; glad he remembered her conditions from the night before.

"That would be best. Wanna go somewhere?"

Tate thought for a moment. "Yes. Go throw a bathing suit on. There's a place near here I used to ride my bike to all the time when I was in grades school."

"You and your mom lived here in LA?" She clearly had a lot to learn.

"Yes, not too far from here. Now go get ready."

It was then she noticed he was already in swim trunks. She shot him a look.

"I was planning on going to the beach with or without you," he admitted.

"Alright. I'll be back." She hurried up to her room to change.


	4. Chapter 4

**I really do apologize for slow updates, I've just been slammed and so busy with work and trying to build a website to start getting my writing out there. If you'd like to know more about that, feel free to private message me! Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

The beach was _packed_. Kids, parents, and teenagers a like were enjoying the surf and sun of a lovely California early afternoon. Tate walked a few paces ahead of her; Violet wasn't used to being outside with only a dress and bathing suit. Before they left, Tate had to wrestle her out of the cardigan she'd come down in.

"You're not wearing that to the beach."

She raised a challenging brow. "Yes, I am."

Her foot touched the bottom step and then she was in the air.

"TATE! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN, YOU PSYCHO!"

"Okay." He slammed her down onto the couch in the living room face down.

He twisted her arms behind her and managed to pull the sweater back by the sleeves.

In an attempt to get it back, she rolled over and fell off onto the floor.

"Ow!"

"That's what you get, _sis_."

"Give it back."

"No. You're not wearing it."

She huffed as she got up and stormed outside. She didn't speak to him the entire car ride. By some strange miracle, they found a spot fairly close to one of the beach entrances. He knew she was upset with him, but he figured she'd get over it after a nice time.

Violet had no idea where he was taking her; every time he slowed down, he'd suddenly walk faster and further away from the throng of beach goers.

Finally, they reached rocks.

"Good job, Tate. You took me to the best part of the beach."

He whipped around. "You have no idea what's over these rocks, do you?"

She shook her head; he began to climb.

"Wait for me!"

Moment later, they were standing in a secluded alcove. The sand was clean and the water seemed much calmer.

"Well?"

Violet couldn't speak. She needed to process the simple beauty of the place.

"Vi?"

"This is amazing."

The smile that spilled onto his face and deepened his dimples was enough to make her breath catch. He was genuinely excited by her approval. He laid out their towels and then turned in time to see her taking off her dress.

Violet owned two bathing suits; both were unfortunately string bikinis. She'd chosen the least skimpy of the pair. It was plain black.

She felt the heat of his gaze and immediately tried to cover herself.

Tate strode over and gently took her hands.

"Don't hide. You're beautiful."

That's when he noticed them. He didn't understand how he missed them at breakfast, but there in the bright summer sun, they shined. Over a dozen silvery lines consumed his vision.

She tensed; afraid he would turn from her in disgust. His eyes hardened a bit before his face crumpled.

"Violet…"

Her arm fell from his grasp and then she was running toward the ocean. She went in with a splash; the first wave that came she dove into it, desperate to go under and escape the pained expression on his face.

Her head broke the surface just as his arms wrapped around her waist. He turned her to face him and lifted her legs put them around himself. They bobbed with the tide in silence; both waiting for the other to speak first.

Finally, Tate couldn't take it anymore.

"When?"

"A little while ago."

"Where?"

"The upstairs bathroom."

"With?"

"Razor blades I found in the medicine cabinet, your kit I presume."

"Why?"

"I hate your mother. I didn't even get the chance to grieve the death of mine before she stuck her claws into my father."

"Oh, Violet."

His lips were on hers in seconds; she kissed him back so hard it hurt her. He pressed her into him, desperately trying to let her know he was there for her; that she was safe with him.

All too soon they pulled away.

"She's a horrible person and I can't stand the things she says to me." Violet's voice went with the wind. If he hadn't been so close, he wouldn't have heard her.

"I know. Trust me. But, I'm going to make sure she never drives you that far ever again."

She nodded and he kissed her forehead. Without warning, she untangled herself from him and dunked him under the water.

When he came up sputtering, she burst into wholehearted laughter.

"You're gonna pay for that, Violet!"

She took off for the shore, stumbling against the current and laughing at his tries to catch her.

He was able to close in on her when they hit the beach; he yanked her off of her feet and put her over his shoulder like he did earlier.

He gently placed her down this time on her towel and then laid beside her on his own.

"I really like you, Vi," he confessed without looking at her.

"I know. I'm scared."

This got his attention. "Of what?"

"Of what I feel for you."

He leaned over to stroke her face; she leaned into his touch.

"Don't be afraid. What could happen?"

"Our parents-"

"They won't find out. Look, you have one more year of school left right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So when you graduate, I'll be done my first year at UCLA. That means we'll have a year to save up any money we can to get our own place. If you decide to go to college here, that is."

It sounded like a great plan. Tate truly believed in it and Violet could see it clear as day in his dark eyes.

She moved a bit and kissed him lightly. He was so full of hope and promise while she doubted practically everything on earth. She decided to give him a chance.

"We can try for that."

"Really?"

He jumped up, grabbing her in the process. Pulling her close, he lifted her and spun them around, causing her to squeal a bit. The kiss that followed her feet touching the sand again made her knees wobble. Tate tangled his hands in her wet hair trying to get her ever closer to him. Violet's fingertips dug into his shoulders to prevent her from falling.

When they pulled away, they get lost in moment; both of them blissfully unaware of the approaching storm.


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't hate me for this chapter xD**

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All at once, the sky blackened and thunder roared. They ran for it; slamming themselves in the car just as the first drop hit the ground.

Tate sped back to the house and pulled into the driveway. It was pouring like they'd never seen before.

They stumbled into the house drenched and laughing.

"Give me the towels; I'll throw them in the dryer."

"I'll come with you."

Violet rolled her eyes as they headed down the basement stairs. Tate followed her closely. She took the wet bundle from his hands and tossed them into the machine.

"We should wash our suits while we're down here," he suggested.

"Uh, we don't have dry clothes to put on first, dummy."

"So?"

She turned and his suit was in his outstretched hand.

"Tate!"

"Yes?" He stepped closer to her and she was very aware of his naked body. Her eyes never left his face.

"Put your pants back on."

"No."

"You are such a petulant child!"

He chuckled deeply at her outburst and her heart fluttered at the sound.

"You're the one acting like a baby. I can see how hard you're trying not to look down."

He leaned, his lips by her ear, "You won't be disappointed."

She gasped and shoved him back. "If that's your idea of making me swoon, you_ will_ be disappointed."

Violet turned and stormed all the way to her room.

He was acting like a douche bag and she couldn't understand how Tate could go from such a kind person to a jerk. He was being so kind to her at the beach and the second they got home, he became a cocky bastard. She couldn't wrap her head around the personality changes.

With a sigh, she took off her suit and threw on an over-sized black night shirt. She had to go back down and face him. The whole storming to her room thing seemed pointless then.

"Stupid, cocky, mother fucking asshole," she grumbled, bounding down the stairs and to the basement. He was nowhere in sight, but the basement door was left open.

_Weird_.

She opened it and cautiously walked down. "Tate?"

The silence was thick.

_Guess he's hiding in his room._

Violet noticed he left his suit for her to throw in the washer with her own. _Of course_.

Muttering about how much of an idiot he was, she put the suits in the washer, poured in the detergent, and put it on.

As she turned to head back upstairs, she heard the basement door slam shut. Then, the only light she had was streaming in from a small window.

"Tate! You're not funny!"

"Yes I am."

"Fuck!" His voice came from behind her.

Tate slid his hands around her and pulled her against his chest. His lips attached to her neck immediately.

"Tate, stop," she huffed, trying to conceal how his kisses actually felt.

"Did I scare you?"

She untangled herself and spun to face him. "Fuck no."

"I think I did, Vi." His tone was low.

Violet realized then, in the faint light, that he was in fact still nude. She allowed her eyes to roam him that time; she already knew his chest was statuesque, but he was…impressive.

She crossed her arms and forced herself to look away. "I said no, Tate."

Before she could process it, Tate had her pinned against the washer. He kissed her hard and pressed his body into hers, causing a groan to escape. She gave in when he gripped her hips and felt his hard length on her fabric covered stomach. One of his hands snaked up her thigh and he touched the smooth skin he found beneath her shirt.

"God, Vi, you don't even know what you do to me."

Boldly, she reached down and grasped him. He jumped in surprise and let out a low moan.

"I have a pretty good idea."

He roughly inserted a finger into her and groaned at her wetness. She gasped at the intrusion.

"Violet, let me have you. Please." Tate never begged, ever. But this girl, this stubborn, beautiful, snarky girl, was driving him fucking crazy.

She smiled and he almost cursed.

"No."

"What?"

Violet pulled his face to hers and kissed him as hard as she could. He felt himself falling into her and just as he was relaxing, she pushed him away. His finger came out, she let go of him, and flew up the stairs.

"What the fuck? Violet!"

She ignored his screams and grabbed herself a glass of water.

_One, two, three_-

His heavy footfalls came and then he was in the kitchen doorway. She ignored him.

"Vi."

"Yes?"

"What the fuck was that?"

"What the fuck was what?" She downed the contents of her glass.

"_That_! Downstairs!"

"I decided I had enough."

To her surprise, he punched the wood. "What do I have to do to make you mine?"

"Why the fuck are you so obsessed with possessing me?"

"That's what you think this is about? I don't want to _possess_ you!"

"Coulda fooled me, Tate! You're acting like I'm something you desperately need to conquest!"

"God! You are fucking ridiculous! Why is it so hard for you to see that I actually want you?"

"Because you're a fucking tool! I can bet you fucked every girl who fell for your bullshit act! I can also bet they were all fucking idiots! I mean look at you! No one who looks like you do has genuine intentions!"

He was at a loss for words. If she had been any other girl, she would have been right. But, she wasn't just any other girl. She was Violet Harmon; the only girl to ever see through his game and that is what caused him to develop true feelings.

"That's what I fucking thought." She put her glass in the sink and exited the kitchen through the dining room and pounded every stair on her way to her room; she made it a point to slam the door as hard as she could and lock it.

Then, she broke down. Her feelings for her step-brother were so overwhelming. He was gorgeous and those moments he'd shared with her showing that he did care about what happened to her were clashing in her mind with the moments he acted like an asshole. She couldn't figure out which personality was the real one.

In the very back of her mind, however, she did indeed know; that scared her beyond belief.


End file.
